“Do you want to stop?” I ask, and he holds my gaze for just a moment before his hands slide up my thighs, grip my hips, and press me slowly, firmly down onto his lap. I gasp when his sex pushes against my heat, straining desperately against his jeans and my paper-thin leggings.
“No,” he says, the lust in his voice soaking my panties. His hands travel beneath the tulle of my dress, feathering up my sides and making my entire body break into goose bumps. Our eyes lock when he sits up and brings his mouth within a breath of mine. “I’ll give you better later.”
Mike’s mouth claims mine with enough heat to ignite us both, and his body awakens every one of my senses. His cock teases my sex even as his hands continue playing up my bare sides. They travel higher and higher, until he’s palming the swell of my breast and sweeping his thumb across my pebbled nipple.
I gasp against his mouth, and Mike nips at my bottom lip. “You’re so soft,” he breathes, and when he lowers his hand and pulls away from me, my body weeps for him. “I want to see you,” he says, his gaze intent even as his voice questions.
A lump forms in my throat, but I can’t deny those brown eyes that have made me melt even in my dreams. I’ve wondered this before—what he would look like beneath me. And now that I see it, now that I have it—I want to give him anything he wants. I want to give myself to him.
I sit a little further back, and I find the hem of my dress. With shivering hands, I start to lift it up, but Mike finishes the job, his fingers grazing the undersides of my arms as he lifts it over my head.
“Hailey,” he admires, his eyes caressing my body before feasting on my breasts. I fight the urge to cover them, to hide from him, but he doesn’t give me the chance. Mike takes my hands in his, places them against the sides of his neck, and shifts in his seat until I’m lying back against the steering wheel and he’s taking my nipple into his mouth.
I don’t recognize the sound of pleasure that bursts from my lips, or the way my fingers scratch into his hair and beg him to continue savoring me. His tongue swims across my nipple, sending waves of pleasure rippling under my skin. He sucks and pulls and pins it between his teeth while he rolls the other between smooth fingertips, and I can’t help the way my hips respond to him. I grind helplessly against his cock, and it tortures us both until he’s groaning against my breast and I’m moaning into the air.
“Take them off,” I pant, and Mike doesn’t ask for clarification before he hooks his fingers inside my leggings and helps yank them off. I take off my boots to remove the black material the rest of the way, and then I settle on Mike’s lap again, my panties damp against his jeans.
I grind against him purposefully this time, kissing him with wild lust that fogs the truck’s windows, and Mike grips my ass as I do, encouraging me to ride him. I move my hips until the feel of his denim fly against my thin cotton panties steals my ability to think, until my moans are desperate cries, and Mike steals his lips from my neck to pant, “Let me inside you, baby.”
Oh God. I don’t know if it was the gravel in his voice or the way he called me baby, but I’m fumbling for his zipper even as he helps me out of the last article of clothing I have on. Mike shifts his jeans and boxers down in one swift movement, and then I’m hovering on my knees above the point of no return.
On impulse, I gaze down, and my eyes widen when I see the size of what was straining inside his jeans.
“Shit,” he breathes as he follows my gaze, a line forming in his brow. “I don’t keep any condoms in my—”
I shake my head at him, shock still washing over me. “I’m on birth control. It’s just—”
I glance down again and bite my lip between my teeth, and when I lift my eyes, his expression relaxes with relief.
“Don’t worry,” he assures me, his fingers exploring my body with minds of their own. They pinch my nipples, and I bite down harder on my lip as my body melts for him.
I’m worried. I’m definitely worried. It’s been too long since I last had sex. Sex with Mike is going to hurt . . . a lot.
“Hailey,” he says, and I pull my eyes from the glistening head of his enormous cock. He holds my gaze and leans forward, kissing me softly until my eyes flutter closed and his touch travels down, down, down.
Mike’s tongue dances with mine, intoxicating and distracting as one of his hands grips my hip and the other slides between my legs. His fingertips find my slick, tight bud, and my knees nearly give out beneath me.
“Mike,” I gasp, and he captures his name with a kiss that makes me heady. His fingers rub in slow circles, the friction melting me like an ice chip lavished by a tongue. His palm brushes my clit as he slips his hand further between my thighs, sliding a finger deep, deep into my heat.
I struggle to kiss Mike, to keep my head from falling to his shoulder, as he strokes the perfect spot inside me while massaging my clit with his thumb. He kisses at the moans coming from my parted lips, and his other hand skates up my stomach and over my breast, rolling my pebbled nipple between his fingertips. Little bolts of pleasure jolt through me from so many places at once, I don’t know how he’s managing it—his hand between my legs, his fingers around my nipple, his lips against my lips, his tongue between my teeth.
In ecstasy, I realize that this is what it’s like—this is what it’s like to be worshipped by a drummer.
Mike slips a second finger inside, and this time, I can’t help breaking the kiss to drop my forehead against his shoulder. I bite the slack of his T-shirt between my teeth to keep from losing control, but when he dips his head and finds the hollow of my collarbone with his satin tongue, that control threatens to slip.
I’m overwhelmed. With his fingers filling me and his tongue savoring my body, I’m consumed by electric sparks that lick me to my core. He’s kindling a fire that’s growing out of control, and when he carefully slides a third finger into my slick heat, pleasure-pain rockets through me.
“Fuck,” I hiss as the heel of Mike’s palm grinds over my burning bud, coaxing my body to melt around his fingers, to stretch to fit their width.
“Am I hurting you?” he asks, and I shake my head against his neck. My fingertips are digging into the backs of his shoulders, my body accepting him and demanding more.
“You’re killing me,” I plead against the sizzling column of his neck, the sound of my own voice making my nipples tighten with need.
“Come for me,” Mike orders over the sounds I’m making against his skin. My sex is milking his fingers, drawing him in, begging for what’s waiting in his lap.
“I need you inside me,” I plead, pulling away to burn my gaze into his. I’m desperate for him, coming undone at my seams, and I can see him struggling with restraint when he forces himself to deny me.
“Come first, Hailey. It’ll be easier for you.”
“Please,” I beg, but Mike only leans forward again, forcing me back and taking my nipple between his lips.